Baseball 101

I live far away.

I needed to get gas.

I went to a wedding last night.

These are the verbatim excuses that parents on my son’s baseball team gave me for why they were late to our tournament games this weekend.

Did your house move?

Did your gas tank spring a leak and it took you an hour to MacGyverize a solution using duct tape and a wad of gum?

You got invited to a last minute elopement?  How special.

No, of course I did not actually say those things.  Something in me prevents me from doing that.  I did, however, make a scene stomping around the ballpark, snapping at strangers with dogs, crying in frustration, trying to figure out where to get a spare uniform for my second son so that he could be our ninth player, even though doing so would probably get my coach suspended.

You might say that this is just recreational ball, the kids are just there to have fun, don’t take it so seriously.  My response is that this has nothing to do with baseball.  I’m not going to critique how the kids play, who is an athlete, or who has no business being on the field in the first place.  My beef is solely with the parents and the example they set for their sons.

When you sign up for a team sport, you sign up your whole family, not just the player.  You are making a commitment to get your kid the right equipment, get him to practices and games on time, and practice with him at home.  You are making a decision to give up other things during the season, like sleeping in late on Saturday mornings, watching American Idol live, or whatever else floats your boat.  If you have other kids, they are making sacrifices too.  They will have to do their homework in the car, stay up later than they should, or miss a few friends’ birthday parties.

Obviously I think these sacrifices are worth it.  My kid enjoys playing a sport.  He has put in a lot of effort to become reasonably good at it, but he also understands that the whole team needs to operate as a unit for success.  Not a bit unlike the real world.

Would you tell your boss that you live far away, needed gas, or went to a wedding and couldn’t function the next day?  Well, these parents probably would, but that’s beside the point.  Most of us plan how long it will take to get from point A to point B and add a cushion.  We don’t let the gas tank get below a quarter full.  We plan a vacation day after a wedding if we think we won’t be a good worker the next day.  (People who still think they have a “right” to get drunk once they have children in their care might be a future topic of conversation.)

Your actions tell your kid that he’s not a crucial part of the team.  That his activities are not as important as your fun.  That the work the team put in all season, culminating in a single elimination tournament, is worthless.  That you don’t care.  And we wonder why kids are complacent.

Life happens.  Tires go flat.  People get sick.  I’m not saying you have to make it to every single practice or game.  However, if you gave your firm commitment that you would be there, especially for a tournament, then that needs to be your priority.  There are ten other families on the team that could have picked up your kid and gotten him where he needed to be on time if you called.  If you wondered why we all exchanged names, phone numbers, and email addresses in that initial parent meeting, that’s why.

Ok, so now that we all understand how important just showing up is, let’s briefly cover a few other rules you might not know.

1. Coaches talk to umps, not parents.

2. Your league’s rules are posted.  Become familiar with them so that when you choose to yell at the ump anyway, you will at least have your facts straight.

3. You do not smoke at a kid’s game.

4. He may be your best friend, but he’s not mine.  Keep your dog on a leash.

5. We play when it is hot and cold, but usually not when it is raining or has been raining.  Know the rainout line for the field where you will be playing. (Yeah, this one requires knowing where you will be playing!)

6.  Generally speaking, if the coach yells "throw to first" and you yell "throw home," your kid will not make any play.

7. Your coach is managing the clock.  If he calls time, swaps out players, or tells the third baseman to check his shoelaces, there is most likely a strategic reason for doing so.  Ask the coach after the game if you don’t understand why certain moves were made.

8. Bring a cooler with ice, even if it is a cold day.  When your kid catches one with his nose, you’ll be glad you had the ice.

9. Get out of your car and watch the practice or the game.  You’ll learn the rules of the game and figure out if your kid and your coach are a good fit.

10. Take your kid to see the pros and semi-pros play his sport.

Stuff someone should have told me a long time ago - part one

1. Make your own laundry and dishwasher detergent.
2. I didn't need calculus, but more classes in languages, negotiation, and standing up for yourself without getting fired would have come in handy.
3. A year long family membership at the zoo costs about the same as an action figure or doll for each kid but won't break as easily.
4. Step away from the book store.  That's what the library is for.
5. If you still have cable like I do, call the company every three months.  They will give you some kind of discount if you ask sweetly.
6. Baking soda and vinegar can fix a lot of problems.
7. Pets are more work than kids.
8. It took four kids to get one who needed or wanted it, but now I truly appreciate the pacifier.  She can keep it until high school as far as I'm concerned.
9.  Pack your lunch.  It makes the occasional lunch out seem like a big treat.
10.  I spend more and waste time when I try to save money using coupons.  Just go to the discount grocery store.  It's all the same underneath the packaging.

Fundraising

This one is late because 1) I'm as guilty as everyone else for shamelessly plugging various fundraisers, and 2) I'll probably generate a lot of ill will for slamming my school.

Over the years I have sold cookie dough, magazine subscriptions, raffle tickets, wrapping paper.  Just this week I used social media, word of mouth, handouts, and begging to get people to eat at Buffalo Wild Wings, which generously donated 10% of their proceeds from the day (not just based on the sales of the people who brought the ticket, but for all their tables!) to support Dodge's fundraiser for ALS.  I've also tried to support other people's fundraisers as much as possible - Girl Scout cookies, restaurant discount cards, Rangers ticket deals, car washes.  It's a game we all play - you support my kid, I'll support yours.

I don't mind any of this kind of activity.  If I don't need wrapping paper, I don't buy it, and I don't feel guilty about it.  If you don't like wings, I don't begrudge you for eating at home.  However, I do find the following scenario annoying, to the point that it made me envious of my homeschooling friends who probably don't have to deal with this kind of convoluted extortion.

For Field Day, which for some odd reason is always held on a muggy day in May instead of a pleasant March day when the weather in Dallas is near perfect, we had to bring plain white Ts for each kid to be tie-dyed.  Had I been smart, I would have found classmates roughly the same size as my kids and pooled money to buy the multipacks of undershirts, but instead I am now the proud owner of one pink shirt (Dodge), one purple shirt (Hank), one blue shirt (Corda), and 9 extra white shirts.

The kids are going to be exercising really hard in the humidity, so they are going to need lots of ice and coolers and water bottles and towels and sunblock and hats.  Should I forget this, I have been given 4 notes, 3 emails, and a 1 robocall.

However, Field Day is not really about exercise or three-legged races or a freebie day at the end of the school year.  No, it is a fundraiser for the PE department.  So, each grade has been assigned snacks to donate to the school, and those snacks will then be SOLD BACK to my kids when they get hungry, and the proceeds go to the PE department.  Yes Mom, you will be paying twice for those Cutie oranges and vegan granola bars.  My kids are well aware that Field Day is an opportunity to eat all day, and they are asking for money for tomorrow's festivities.  On the way to school Dodge asked me to please go to the bank today and get singles as an advance on his allowance so that he can buy snacks (ummm....did you clean the bathroom or do dish duty or put away your laundry or practice your instrument this week?).

I know I have no grounds for complaint because I chose not to be on the committees that make these decisions.  That's fine, and I'll probably even dig up a few dollars so the kids can get their snow cones.  However, in the future, let's simplify.  Let's just say that if the PE department needs $1000 for X, Y, and Z, then let's collect donations or get Sports Authority to sponsor us.  Let's keep the fun days and the fundraisers separate.

Pennies

There's really nothing better than a penny to a kid, right?  I used to collect pennies when I was little.  I had a book where I could store one from each year.  I also loved to save enough to be able to wrap them in the 50 penny rolls and trade them in at the bank for "bigger" money.  Just the right size for a small hand, a different color than the other coins, feeling rich if you have a whole bunch.

As we drove home tonight, Corda was admiring a penny.  She asked me many questions about where it came from, how many it would take to buy an airplane ticket to visit Grandma, and so on.  The conversation meandered to other topics.  Then I hear choking from the back row.  Oh yeah, the same girl who was calculating compound interest for her piggy bank just could not resist that shiny coin and decided to see what would happen if she tried to swallow it.  Fortunately it flew out and it was just a brief scare for both of us.  "Mom, can I get unbuckled?  My penny is on the floor!!"

Dragons

It's still Wednesday somewhere, right?  Maybe on that second earth they found earlier this week?  I won't bore you with the details of caring for a toddler who has been sick this week (lesson: might as well stick it out at CareNow for the 3.5 hour wait when the ear infection is first suspected or else your kid with a high tolerance for pain will go undiagnosed but cranky for a week).  Instead, my Wednesday Words for the week are to slow down and do something one on one with your kid every once in a while.  Hank really wanted to show me a YouTube video about dragons.  I figured it was a 4 minute Pokemon dragon something.  Oh no.  One hour and thirty-six minutes of quasi-documentary/infotainment that he saw once, memorized as gospel, and now needs to preach to the world.  It is a rare thing to have this almost eight year old beg to sit in my lap and watch something, so we did.  When I visited his school today, I saw that he used dragons as the topic for his weekly writing exercise too.  As I type, he's wearing his Spiderman costume and doing the play-by-play of a dragon battle that only he can see.  An hour and a half well spent to see inside that little guy's world.

You can't unsee that....

Since moving to Texas in the spring of 2004, I have always looked forward to the arrival of the bluebonnets.  It's my favorite color.  Ordinary medians suddenly become things of beauty during my daily commute.  The weather is neither too hot or too cold.  I have a couple of favorite fields where we go each year and let the kids run around, and I attempt to get at least one good shot of all of them looking at the camera at the same time.  I stalk the weather reports and figure out the best day in a three week window when it will not be too sunny, windy, or muddy.

All of that is ruined now, because I came across the tumblr site pooping on bluebonnets.  Thanks, internet, for permanently etching that phrase in my brain.

Thanks for the help, I think.

As a parent, when do you want help and when do you find it an intrusion?

On Sunday I took a load of CDs, a baby, and a five year old to Half Price Books.  It was raining.  I had the baby in the stroller, the five year old trying to push it, and a crate of CDs in my arms.  There was a man standing outside the door who made no attempt to open it for us.  I did a one-legged flamingo move to balance the crate, pull open the door, and get the stroller and girls inside.  He looked at us but did not help.  I was a little peeved that it did not occur to him to open the door (I would not have expected or wanted him to carry the crate).

The day before....we're at a baseball game and the baby crawled under the bleachers and found someone's trash to nosh on.  I took the trash from her mouth and walked it over to the trash can maybe 10 yards away.  She screamed.  Other mothers took pity on this poor, dirty child abandoned under the bleachers and they tried to console her.  When I got back I was a little peeved that people were touching my kid and in their actions indirectly saying that I was not doing a very good job at keeping my kid content and safe since she was crying and I was not with her.

So who is the hypocrite?  Me for being annoyed at both situations?  Probably.  Do I want help or not?  Is it fair to want help only on your own terms?  How do you decide when and how to help others?